Sign of Three - Molly's POV
by siriuslygrednforge
Summary: As the title suggests :D


She had to catch her breath when she saw him. Dressed in a sharp three-piece suit, Sherlock Holmes set Molly's heart aflutter.

"Hey Gorgeous!" she heard a voice say and felt someone grab her waist from behind.

"Tom!" she said, trying to fake a smile.

"The chocolate fountain is wonderful. You should try it"

"No I'm fine. You go ahead and enjoy yourself" she replied.

There were kids and then there was Tom. Molly sighed in despair, her eyes searching for Sherlock. She made a mental note to not start comparing them both again, but failed miserably.

The only reason she fell for Tom was because he reminded her of Sherlock, only the looks. But he was nowhere near the genius, arrogant and insanely attractive detective she knew. Molly tried to convince herself that she had moved on, that the fact that she never mattered to Sherlock was the only truth. That was only until the previous month when he came back , just like a blast from the past.

"meat dagger"

Molly had never felt so embarrassed of herself in her entire life. All the eyes were towards her and Tom, who was still standing with his hands trying to depict an imaginary 'meat dagger'. Sherlock had a slight smirk on his face. It felt like he was trying to say "You really found a genius to replace me, Ms Hooper".

She clutched her purse tightly and took deep breaths to relieve herself. "Sit down" she said, her teeth gritted. Molly tried to smile so that the guests would look away, which luckily worked for her. Though she still felt like Sherlock was taunting her with his smile. She gulped down the wine, trying to calm herself down, while Tom looked at her, clueless as to what had made her so angry.

She struggled to hold back her tears when she saw Sherlock play the waltz he had composed for the Watsons. She imagined her and Sherlock dancing to it, temporarily forgetting that she had a boyfriend who had caused her a great embarrassment that day. She clapped hard when the waltz ended and the party music started.

Tom dragged her and Mrs Hudson to the dance floor.

"I'm sorry" he said

Molly sighed. She didn't know what to say when he looked at her with puppy dog eyes that made him look like a human greyhound. A cute one, she thought.

"It's alright" she said. The music started playing and took her hand in his.

Molly had forgotten about Sherlock while dancing with Tom. She looked over Mrs Hudson's shoulder to catch a glimpse of him but failed. She continued looking for him without seeming too obvious. And when she found him, she saw him leave the party.

Molly wondered why he would do that. She looked at Tom, who was dancing with Mrs Hudson and looked at Sherlock, who seemed like a silhouette as he slipped out. Should she follow him?

"Would he care?" Molly said to herself and continued dancing with Tom. But she felt sad to see him go. The guilt of not going after him was eating her on the inside. She knew how alone Sherlock felt, after all, one of the reasons he was so unsociable was because of his awkwardness at social gatherings. During the time she spent with Sherlock, Molly had come to observe him and understand him.

Sometimes she thought she kept forgetting that she could at least see Sherlock as a friend, if not the man she had fancied for the past few years.

"I'll be back" she said to Tom, who nodded and continued to dance. Molly straightened her dress and ran outside, hoping she would find him.

"Sherlock" she cried "Sherlock!"

It was dark. Molly was afraid she had lost him. She ran a bit till she saw the gate and the parked cars. A thin figure dressed in black was going out of the gate.

"Sherlock?" she shouted. Molly heaved a sigh of relief when the figure turned back to show his face. It was him. But Molly's smile soon disappeared when she saw his face. His eyes looked red and his cheeks were stained with tears.

He had been crying.

Molly couldn't say anything as she saw him turn back and leave. The words were struggling to get out but she only stood still in the cold night, a hot tear sliding down her cheek.


End file.
